


I Need To Protect You

by markipwiwer



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Author is kind of a brat??, Bottom! Author, Chubby Iplier, Doctor/Patient Relationship, M/M, Possesive Iplier, Rape/Non-con Elements, THE NON CON IS WITH DARK JUST TO BE CLEAR, defensive Iplier, does it count as a slow burn if there are just a lot of words, fucking angst, shitty terrible Dark, slow burn (?), speaking of which
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-14 23:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15399792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer
Summary: This is a birthday gift for one of my closest friends, Vixyrules! I usually use them as a consultant for all my Host characterisation, and their birthday is in, like, two days so I just decided to pump this thing out in 24 hours.Basically she asked for Possesive Dr Iplier with Author and/or Host.I wrote this in about 3 days and it’s my longest fic yet. I have mixed feelings about that but at the very least, I feel like a good friend.





	1. That’s Torture!

Edward was a call-out doctor, and he really didn’t mind it. The pay was half decent, there were technically less rules to abide by, and at least once a week, two or three times if he was lucky, he got to make a drive out to the middle of nowhere to see a patient that he’d... taken something of a liking to.

He tried desperately to keep his doctor/patient relationships to a minimum, but every now and then, someone would get sick out of nowhere and it’d take his goddamn breath away.

Nothing like the way this guy had taken his breath away though. He’d stolen Edwards heart, beaten it into the forest ground with a baseball bat, and Edward would go back for more.

The name on the paperwork was always misspelled or the handwriting was too difficult to read, but the ‘preferred’ name was always well printed.

Author.

It sent a chill right up Edwards spine the first time he’d read it, because that was cryptic as hell and he was driving out into the middle of absolutely nowhere, this total cabin in the woods situation, and he could be murdered out here and he wouldn’t even know the name of the guy.

But as he was driving, he felt a light sense of euphoria drifting over him, the scenery seeming to put him in rather a good mood. He still kept concentration on the road, as it twisted and turned in odd directions, but his GPS managed to stay on track despite his phone dropping in and out of signal constantly with how far out he was going.

Finally, he pulled up out the front of his destination. This totally was a little cabin in the woods, there was no other way to describe it. A little porch, everything just a tad overgrown, a couple of rusted garden tools that isn’t actually look too ominous with the way it reflected in the light. But, he had to shake his head of the flowery descriptions that kept floating into his head. He was here on business, and the person must have been sick. Otherwise he wouldn’t have made the trip out.

So he grabbed his box with his supplies, and a binder full of paperwork and scripts, and got out the car.

The ground was wet with mildew despite it being only mid afternoon, and he walked up to the door. He was glad he’d actually worn something a little more warm. Neat jeans and a cardigan over a button down with a plain tie, but it was an awful lot warmer than his scrubs, and he could already tell this particular area seemed to just keep in the cool a little more.

Edward finally walked up to the door and knocked a couple of times. The wood was heavy and he heard some rustling around, a couple of things dropping and then a dead silence before the cracked open.

His patient was wearing a black hoodie, with the hood up, so part of his face was obscured, but just as he seemed to recognise it was merely the doctor he’d called for, he dropped something next to him and smiled.

And then the doctor heard his voice.

“Well, of all the things I was expecting to see today, it certainly wasn’t an Iplier!”

Edward was a little taken aback. Well, more than a little. Because that was... just like his voice. But nicer, somehow. It was weird. He didn’t even really have a response, since patients didn’t know what doctor they were going to get in a call out situation.

“That - that’s, uh... not how you pronounce it. It’s Ipli-air.”

His patient stiffled a snicker, only barely, and imitated his manner of speaking.

“As in, seeing the error of ones ways?”

“S-something like that... may I come in?”

Author smiled even wider, and that was disconcerting, if not weirdly capturing. Edward felt his heart do the darndest thing as he walked in.

It was a small little place, the title of Author was incredibly accurate. Empty tins of soups and whatever else stacked in a small sink off to the side, and a dusty typewriter near a window that barely let any real light in, but most of all was the notebooks. Edward didn’t want to exaggerate in his own head but he would have said there were hundreds of them. In messy stacks in corners, pieces of paper ripped out strewn about in various states of crumpledness.

And then one, in the middle of a desk, with a haunting looking pen, that seemed totally brand new, despite it being at least ten pages in. It almost glistened, like the whole room revolved around that one book.

Author was quick to go over and shut it closed while Edward shut the door behind himself.

“So, Doc...”

Edward must have looked spaced out, surveying the environment because Authors tone had a bit of kick to it.

“Oh, yes. My apologies. What can I do for you, today?”

Author scoffed.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

Author had what could only be described as a sickly smile on as he finally pulled off his hoodie and Edward almost stumbled back.

“It’s okay, not everyone is born knowing. Some of us have lives, some of us just kinda fall into existence like this.”

Edward was still reeling, as was clear on his face.

“Look, we’re not related, and unless you have any special powers you can probably go on for the rest of your life without this being a problem. In fact, it’s probably better if you do that second one.”

Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

“Special... Powers? I have to tell you now, I’m a man of science, I don’t believe in -“

“Oh come on, the drive here was pretty nice, right? GPS never failed even though it totally should have, everything looking way prettier than usual?”

Edward stood, stock still. Author rolled his eyes a little.

“Here, look, I’ll show you.”

Author turned around and sat at his desk, quickly opening his note book, taking the pen and scribbling quickly.

Quite suddenly, Edward had flashes of scenes, scenes that were disturbing, scenes of men with the same face as him. One man, like a demon, looming over the Author, telling him what to write, working him to the bone, the Author curled up in the corner, holding his head, in great pain, and then it was all gone. 

Edward blinked a couple of times, getting the images out of his head, before looking at Author with a sense of pity.

“That’s... Darks torturing you, he can’t do that!”

“It’s not torture, and I’m glad you picked up on the name. Must be getting better.”

Author looked rather proud of himself, as he crackled his knuckles and Edward had to flinch at that. But he put his things down and came over to the desk to see what the hell Author had actually written.

‘The good doctor understands, with no ridiculous exposition, why he is here.’

Edward knew, in the back of his head, that it was real, because Author had made him know it. But it was a sort of strange disconnect, since his real brain hadn’t really had time to process it. The way it was given to him was like he had known it for years and just hadn’t comprehended it... or something like that.

It was weird.

But then Edward had another thought, as the cocky nature of the Author sitting before him so harshly contrasted with seeing him curled up, hands pulling at his hair.

“You need pain relief. And a lot of it.”

The Author dropped his smile.

“I - yeah... I can’t exactly go and get a regular script filled so I’ve just kind of dealt with it.”

Author sounded something close to embarrassed about asking for help.

“It alright. I’ll make sure to give you a decent dose, stock you up, and I’ll come back to check in about two weeks? I have plenty of paracetamol, codeine, ibuprofen, there’s a chance I could get some morphine next visit...”

At this point, the doctor was rambling, kneeled on the ground and rummaging through his supply box. Author stood from his desk and went to kneel down next to Edward.

“You don’t... I mean, you could just come back sooner, Doc. After all, the drives so nice.”

Something flickered in the Authors eyes. And it was decided. Edward gave Author about two weeks worth of paracetamol and ibuprofen, along with his phone number.

“Here, for... you know, emergencies, or if you have any questions.”

Author grinned at him after taking a solid handful of pills, and Edward would have been worried about that if Author didn’t seem so confident in himself.

He got out of that cabin and genuinely had to take deep breaths in his car before he was safe to drive again.

For once, it felt very narcissistic to be attracted to someone with your own face, but he implied there were more. More than even himself and Dark, whoever that was.

It was like they were all based off of one person, and Edwards brain hurt just thinking about it.

The ride back home soothed him a little, and he didn’t know if it was a placebo effect or if the Author was making it soothing.

-

He was back at the cabin again in three days. He hadn’t been called out by work, he hadn’t received a phone call either. He just wanted to... check in. That’s what he told himself. That was an awful lot of pain medication and he wouldn’t want Author overdosing or anything, he had a duty as his doctor to - whatever, the guy was cute as hell and he couldn’t stop thinking about him. He couldn’t stop thinking about Dark looming over him like that. It was upsetting.

This time, the ride there was a little boring. Well, perhaps boring was the wrong word. It wasn’t euphoric, it was anxiety inducing because he just wanted to see Author again and the bastard was two damn hours outside of town.

But it didn’t matter. Edward made sure he had no more work commitments that day and he drove out, a little later than last time, and he’d gotten Chinese take out along the way. It’d barely be warm by the time he got there but it was better than those tins of whatever, surely.

This was normal, right? Totally normal behaviour, checking in on a patient that lives two hours away just three days after your first meeting and bringing them dinner.

Very normal.

When he pulled up, a satchel instead of his usual box of goodies, plenty of pain killers and food stuffs inside, he noticed the door was ajar.

That didn’t feel right.

Getting out of his car, he heard some sort of rustling from inside the cabin, and a strange ringing sound. And there was a voice, similar to his own again but more booming, almost two-toned, and very degrading.

He walked up to the door as quiet as could be.

“You’ve done well.”

“I’m just... glad we’re done. I need to get something -“

There was a noise, like the Author being pushed back.

“What, the medicine? You’re not that weak, Author. You can do without it. Besides, we need to talk about your payment of interest.”

There was a sickening tone to the way the other being spoke, like he was suggesting something sinister, something he knew Author didn’t want.

“Maybe I don’t need them, but I like them. Makes it easy dealing with you. Clearly I’m not interested.”

Author sounded like he was trying to get around something, struggling, and then there was the sound of skin connecting.

Author let out a yelp.

“You’re not really in a position to be fighting, Author. You asked for power and I gave it to you. Your payment isn’t merely using that power for me. I could have done it myself if I’d wanted.”

“Dark... don’t, you’re freaking me out -“

Author sounded rather panicked, and there was another shoving sound. Edward couldn’t take it, he was basically shaking at his core because THIS was Dark, and he had to see it to believe it but for Christ sake, he needed to do something, right?!

He pushed open the door with a bit of force.

The Author had a hand on Darks chest, still completely clothed, trying to push him away, and another hand bracing on the desk, while Dark had him cornered with a perverse look.

“Hey, back the fuck off!”

The words just tumbled out of the doctors mouth, as if they hadn’t even been his. But Author hadn’t written it. They were his own words, he felt it in his core.

Dark turned to the doorway, with a cocked eyebrow, and stepped away from Author after a moment of contemplation.

“So, you’re the new Ego? Well, perhaps not new. Just under the radar up until now.”

Author had looked afraid when Edward walked in, but now he looked spiteful. He knew exactly the kind of shit Dark would pull with a new recruit and he couldn’t control it. He hugged himself, catching his breath from the events that had almost taken place.

Dark disappeared and reappeared right in Edwards face and Edward made a genuine sound of shock, before holding his ground again.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to attend to my patient now.”

The confidence wasn’t totally there, but the overwhelming feeling to protect Author from this monster was greater than his fear of Dark and what he might be capable of. Despite feeling shaken to the core, his appearance was reasonably well put together, and his face was bold. Or, at least, not too cowardly. It was bold in the wake of Darkiplier.

Dark chuckled, but it wasn’t the kind of laugh one expected to hear from a real person. It was gross, and had that two-toned thing from earlier.

“Well now, I shouldn’t stop you from your duties. In fact, I think your skills as a doctor might be rather useful in my endeavours. The pay would be... more rewarding than money.”

Now Dark loomed over Edward in the same way, did he magically make himself taller? Who knew.

“I’m fine, but thank you anyway.”

Dark tsked, waving his hand and Edward was pushed aside by some strange force so that Dark could get to the door.

“Fine. You boys have fun. I’ll be in touch.”

And he disappeared in a thick cloud of black smoke.

What was the guys deal?

Fuck it, it didn’t matter. Edward spent all of two seconds ogling the cloud of smoke before immediately remembering himself and walking over to Author, who was still hugging himself.

The zipper on today’s black jacket was completely down, and he had plenty of bruises, some of them bordered into the territory of looking like bite marks. Edward didn’t want to think about it. Almost worse, as he looked further down, Authors fly on his own jeans had been completely undone. Almost as quickly as Edward noticed it, Author fixed it, fumbling and then zipping himself up again, knowing the question was coming.

“Are you alright?”

“Look, you really shouldn’t get attached to me, okay? Especially if you want to keep away from Dark. Which you do.”

Edward brought his hand gently up to Authors neck, where there was a considerable bruise, almost in the shape of a hand print. Jesus.

“Is this what he does to you?”

Author looked down and shrugged.

“I mean, it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into. You pay a lot for powers like mine.”

Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

“But that doesn’t - he doesn’t have the right to - to pressure you into...”

Edward was furious. He knew he couldn’t really do anything about it but still, it was more angry than he usually got when he found out about his patients being abused. This felt more... more. Like it was personal. He supposed it probably felt that way because of the same face thing, but still.

“He doesn’t usually get like that. He’s just kind of dick-headed. Sex brain. Whatever.”

Author tried to crack a smile. Edward struggled with it.

“For an author, you’re not as good with spoken-word things on the go, are you?”

“It flows out better on paper. Always has. Your mouth is stupid, and doesn’t filter things the way your hand can.”

It was a strangely intimate moment, Author talking about his writing while Edward was surveying what injuries he could see just from this one perspective. There was probably more he could do though.

“Would you mind if I checked all of your injuries?”

Author shrunk a little.

“I mean, if you really want, it doesn’t matter though, it’s...”

Edward put just two soft fingers at the edge of the Authors jaw.

“I want to help. I have Deep Heat in my bag, we can take it from there.”

Author looked borderline worried for a moment, like this was some trick.

“Why are you helping me?”

Edward sighed though his nose, and smiled.

“Listen, I’m a doctor, I know what’s best. And you’re... you deserve better treatment than that.”

“What, and you’re going to give me better treatment?”

Authors tone had some cheek laced in.

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

Author cracked a small smile for a moment. It faltered, as he seemed to think about something, and then he kissed Edward.

It was quick, not just a peck, a little deeper than that, but still a far cry from a make out session.

Edwards heap spun and Author pulled back looking for a reaction.

Edward was... morally perplexed. This man, who had just been through extensive trauma, kissed him out of the blue and just about sounded like he wasn’t expecting to be helped at all.

And he kissed him.

Author wanted to do it again, it was obvious. His lips were parted, his breathing was a little stuttered, he’d leaned in again. But Edward was the voice of reason.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Author was sure because he’d never been touched so gently in his life, let alone when Dark “played” with him. Edward touched him so gently he wanted to cry.

Edward kissed him softly, passionately, careful not to touch any other part of him in case he was injured there, bruises or... anything else. Edward didn’t want to think about the kinds of other injuries Author might have.

But Author broke the kiss for just a moment to grab the doctors satchel, bringing it up and over his head to drop on the floor and then pulling him closer, kissing him harder this time. Author let his hands be on Edwards body, mostly keeping to his shoulders, gripping like he was terrified the doctor would leave.

Edward was finally the one to break the kiss, knowing that his reasoning wasn’t morally sound but that Author probably wouldn’t mind.

“Take your jacket off and lay on your stomach on the couch.”

He would have said bed if the Author had a bed. One day, Edward would need to bring one out, even just a cot, because his back was probably ruined, but for now it didn’t matter.

He felt Author shivered under him from the words, and then a fierce blush formed at Authors cheeks because that should NOT have made him feel anything in particular, let alone heart things or... other things. Unmentionable things. Shit.

But he did as he was told though, Edward moving out of his way to grab his satchel and rummage through it for the deep heat and some massage cream and any other potential helpful things.

Edward turned around and... there were hand marks all over Authors back. He suspected the front would be the same, and there was some swelling around the hips, so Edward sat himself on the edge of the couch first, not wanting to be too... intrusive. He tried to steady his hand and stabilise his breathing as he dipped his fingers into the tub of clinical deep heat and spread some of it very carefully onto Authors lower back.

It went like this for a while, at first Edward just wanted to get to problem areas, and Author made noises o content that did things to Edwards moral compass that he wasn’t too happy about. Everywhere was kind of a problem area though and chances were that Authors back was already ruined from exclusively sleeping on an old couch. So, he shifted himself onto the couch and onto his knees, settling the smallest amount of weight he could into Authors upper thighs, to get a proper reach of his entire back.

He felt Author immediately tense at this.

“I’m sorry, I can do it another way -“

“NO! - No, I mean, this is fine... this is really fine. Thank you.”

Edward didn’t want to read into what his hopeful little heart was thinking. He really didn’t want to get his hopes up. But Author had just kissed him. What else was there to do? Especially, what was there to do that was entirely appropriate?

The contented noises that Author made as Edward kneaded his back, massaging and after he was done with the deep heat, it was nice smelling oils and muscle relaxants and it was all... utterly perfect. Part of Authors brain could have gone to sleep like this. The other parts of him, however, his heart and his nether regions, they had other things to say about the situation.

Author was just as frustrated at himself, because his lower legs hurt too, and yet that wasn’t the feeling he was concentrating on. In fact, he couldn’t concentrate on much of any feeling except the pressure off his back, anxiety in his stomach and, fortunately or unfortunately, his dick waking up to make the whole situation weird. He didn’t think he had some doctor kink, maybe it was just how gentle the man was being with him, maybe it was just a lack of decent human contact, since once couldn’t exactly call Dark human. But it was... something. And it made Authors heart do disgusting things only the worst writers would describe as positive, and it made him feel rather obscene, and he half wished he had his own so he could write somewhere discrete that his cock would deflate or something.

But it was persistent. And it was buzzing in the back of his brain and he was making noises that he didn’t like making, and then Edward was shifting slightly forward, to reach his shoulders, and damn it, now he could feel a fucking bulge, even if it wasn’t fully formed, it was still there, and the whole thing was so strange.

Author was grinding into the couch without even realising, like some dumb animal. Edward noticed because that kind of repeated motion was easy to place when it was right under you and was almost rubbing up against you.

“...Author?”

The Authors breath was shallow.

“Yeah?”

“Am I hurting you in any way?”

Author almost laughed.

“N-no... kinda the opposite, actually...”

He sounded like he was trying to keep his cool. It wasn’t entirely working. His cock was hard and pressed up against the cushion of the couch, and he felt himself moving, to which he cursed under his breath.

“Do you want to... continue?”

Author nodded his head before anything else, as if he didn’t trust the words that might have come out of his mouth.

“Yeah. I wanna - fuck, I -“

“You want me to fuck you?”

Edward said it so casually, with the same tone of voice he asked about Authors pain. Weirdly enough, it was a turn on. Like it was his duty as a doctor, as a caregiver, to do this. Author wasn’t about to complain, regardless of the motivation.

“Yeah.”

“You get a little quiet when you’re like this.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, it’s just not what I was expecting.”

The casual exchanges between the two made their grinding all that much more surreal, Edward not feeling as much of a need to hold back now and letting himself admire Authors ass while still massaging his lower back.

And then, so gentle, so delicate that the Author barely registers it happening, his jeans are being undone. Edward has his hands at the front, somehow undoing the button and zipper without much fiddling, and he’s pulling the Authors jeans down, along with his boxers, over the curve of his ass, and the doctor gets up to strip the Author completely.

Author rolls over, ever so slightly, just to give his cock room to breathe for two seconds, and he notices the way Edward looks him over, half pitiful, half possessive. It’s intriguing, it’s arousing, it’s... wonderful to have another human look at him like that.

Dark looks at him and sees nothing but a pawn. Edward looks at him and sees a real person, someone to take care of, maybe someone to love.

Was he taking this too far in his brain? Was this too cliche? Fuck yeah. Did he care right now? Not entirely.

“Hey, I’m completely naked and you’re totally dressed. That’s no fair.”

Edward had to smile at that, and he blushed. Well, at least he knew he didn’t have much to be self conscious about. He and the Author clearly had the same blueprint. The Author was a bit more... broad shouldered, with slimmer legs, where as Edward had just a bit of pudge everywhere, in a sweet and endearing way. And in terms of size, almost identical as far as Edward could see. Although a certain, more lewd part of his brain told him he should make sure that’s definitely the case.

Would rubbing dicks together be an accurate way of measuring if someone is the same size as you?

In Edwards boner-filled brain, it worked out as logical.

Regardless, that wasn’t the plan, and Edward slowly began to take his sweater off, loosening his tie slightly along the way. When he’d dumped his sweater on the ground, he noticed Author seemed to be enjoying the view, stroking himself lightly with one hand behind his head. Edward kicked off his shoes and socks and slowly unbuttoned his own jeans when Author finally spoke again.

“As much as I’m loving the show, I’m in a lot of different kinds of pain right now and you can help with several of them.”

To be fair, his expression was difficult to read and it was almost of someone in pain, but it was more needy than that. Author needed a really sweet fuck as much as he needed a really sweet massage, apparently.

So Edward made quick work of the rest of his clothes, and it didn’t feel too awkward to be standing there with his cock out when Author was there in the exact same way.

And there was a pause, where hey both seemed to have the same thought of ‘is this a good idea?’, and Author clearly shook it off faster than Edward because he laughed at Edwards worried expression.

“Jesus Doc, it’s okay, just get over here and fuck me!”

So he did. Edward made his way back over to the couch and grabbed the massage oil off of the floor where he’d left it, and alright, maybe chancing this wasn’t the most sanitary thing he could have done, but it was whatever. He didn’t care. He really didn’t care. The man before him was beautiful, and said man was spreading his legs without a second thought, still with a hand on his cock, and he was just... so pretty.

The Author looked so flexible and pliable and loveable and, his heart was breaking and being fixed again every time he saw another mark. There were bruises and more hand marks around his stomach, like he’d been punched and held, and almost what looked like burn marks on his shoulders, bite marks around his nipples... he looked beat up. And despite all of it, he was so gorgeous.

Edward situated himself properly between the Authors legs, and the Author just... draped himself open so easily, and his eyes looked glassy and only half in focus but he was smiling, gently, and that was what mattered. Edward emptied some of the massage oil into his finger, and reached out to spread some of it across Authors hole, teasing. 

Authors breath caught in his throat but it certainly wasn’t bad, and then Edward was pushing a finger in, and oh... he was so gentle. It just kept shocking the Author over and over just how gentle Edward was with, how carefully he handled him, even though the Author could very clearly see Edward must have been aching, desperate, in the way that Author already was.

“It’s... it’s okay, this isn’t my first time at the rodeo...”

Edward took the meaning for what it was - despite Author appreciating the delicate touch, he wanted more.

Edward pulled out and pushing in two fingers this time, and Author groaned, squeezing around the doctor, biting his lip, if Edward didn’t know any better, he’d say Author might have been putting on something of a show. But the Authors cock was leaking now, and Edward didn’t usually have any urges or tendencies to put random body parts in his mouth, but that looked good. The way the Author touched himself, the way he moved and even ground back onto the doctors fingers as he was scissored opened ever so slowly, it drove something inside of Edward. So, with his other hand, he shuffled himself slightly and put a hand on the Authors wrist, tugging his head away from his cock.

The Author, for a moment, looked confused, maybe even worried, but that facial expression dropped away quickly when Edward leaned forward and wrapped his mouth just around the tip of the Authors cock.

It tasted... salty, but almost sweet, and Edward drank in the sounds that Author made, sickly, pornographic sounds as he lapped at the head, trying to get any more of that weirdly enticing flavour. He took the opportunity of a distraction to insert a third finger, just to be on the safe side, and at that the Author bucked into his mouth, and there was a pleading hand at his hair, willing Edward to just blow him right then and there, actual fucking be damned.

But Edward knew the pay off would be worth it for the both of them, and his cock was internally screaming at him as it was for its lack of attention.

So Edward pulled himself off of the Authors cock, peppering it with a few kisses that made the Author flinch, and took his fingers very slowly out of Authors ass, before smothering his own cock in the massage oil, for which he’d been reciting the ingredients in his head just to make doubly sure it was safe to be using.

He lined up, and took a moment to admire the way the Author looked like this. His hair was never neat, but when it was sweaty instead and clinging to his forehead, when his chest was rising and falling at such a rapid speed, when he looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t totally have the brain power to say it.

As the tip of Edwards cock nudged at Authors opening, only one thing was really cemented in his mind and he said it aloud.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

Author, for the briefest moment, wanted to laugh, because the doctor could do nothing against Dark. But as Edward pushed inside of him, slowly, gracefully, stretching him with almost no pain, the Author was inclined to believe him.

Edward bottomed out after a solid minute of just trying to get used to the feeling, and he fell forward, inched from the Authors face.

So he kissed him. It was the only logical thing to do really. Edward kissed the Author, and he brought a gentle hand around his waist, hugging him, holding himself up with the other hand, as he began to move.

And all Author could do was take it. He was so not used to not just being fucked into oblivion, he wasn’t used to being seen as a person instead of just a tight hole, an easy fuck, especially by the likes of people with the same face. It was so overwhelming.

Edward broke away from the kiss as he started moving at a faster rate, burying his head in the crook of the Authors neck and kissing oh so sweetly, in such stark contrast to the actions that had been taken to put the marks there.

“No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s going to lay a finger on you, I need to - fuck, ah - I need to protect you, I need...”

Author couldn’t help but wrap his hands around Edward, and it was so intimate, Edward said those words with such a genuine meaning that the Author, in that moment at least, was forced to believe him. No one was going to hurt him.

Edwards breathing was heavy and he was letting out the most wonderful noises, although the Author was the louder one of the two, swearing like a sailor when Edward readjusted to get deeper and instead hit Authors prostate.

At that point, Edward was truly fucking the Author. It was still gentle by comparison, and it sent all of the Authors nerve endings on fire with need, with the friction against the doctors stomach, and he was fucking himself back against the doctor with some amount of force, clenching around him. That drew some beautiful sounds from Edward, and then he was leaning forward again, more pressure on The Authors cock, their faces so close to each other, each building on their orgasms rather quickly, despite both never wanting it to end.

The Author didn’t realise how much Edwards words drove him on until he was right on the brink just from his mumbling.

“I swear, I don’t care what I have to do, I need to keep you safe, I need to keep you protected, I need to keep you - fuck, I - shit!”

Edward was losing his quick momentum but that was just fine because the Author was pulling him in close, fucking himself on the doctors cock and grinding against his stomach, and he was cumming hard, like it was being yanked out of him. It was almost unexpected, and in a similar fashion, Edwards face tightened up and opened up as he let out a guttural moan and fucked into the Author with quick bursts, then burying himself deep, as the last little bits of his orgasm washed over him like a comforting blanket.

They were both out of breath, the doctor more so than the Author, and it took the doctors to shake himself back into this plain of existence, and then he was checking the Authors body for any extra marking.

Author had to laugh at that, and the laughter made his muscle contract around Edwards dick, still inside him, and he almost winced, because that was very sensitive now.

“You’re as gentle as a piece of silk, you didn’t leave a scratch. It’s okay.”

Edward had to blush at that. And then he looked down, still inside the Author, and he’d be wilting very soon.

“Uh... I don’t want to ruin your couch, what should I...?”

“Doc, I sleep and jerk off on this couch. I’m pretty sure one load isn’t going to ruin it. It’s already well ruined.”

Edward made a face, and the Author laughed.

“Yeah, I’m definitely buying you an actual bed.”


	2. A Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I have a proposal for you and your boyfriend.’

Edward and the Author kept up their regular health checks for months, with or without Chinese food. It had been going on for so long that the good doctor had basically been living there, out in the woods, and every day when he’d come home from work with various kinds of take out and medication, he’d find the Author writing at his desk. 

By now, he’d set up the bed, and had convinced Author to do just a little bit of reshuffling of the room so it didn’t look like a bomb had hit it constantly. He even had hot running water now, which was a great relief, since the first time Edward had gone to take a shower without Author knowing, he’d been rather shocked by the freezing water and let out a yelp.

Author mumbled out an apology, wrote something on his own arm and went back to sleep.

When Edward got out from the shower and crawled back into bed with the Author, he found the slightly smudged print on his arm that read ‘the good doctor has all the hot water he needs for a leisurely shower.’

So they just got it installed. It was a little pricey, getting a water heater out here, but Edward paid for it.

Edward essentially paid for the privilege to be able to spend every spare bit of time with the Author, and he hadn’t been this content in years. It was incredibly refreshing. Not to mention, they hadn’t had another appearance from Dark in quite some time.

The Author has alluded to their last session being pretty intensive so there was a chance he just wasn’t needed, and that was bittersweet to hear. But eventually, Edward had to ask.

“Dark said that you were... paying for these powers. I don’t understand. Did you ask for them?”

The Author had his head in Edwards lap, a rather comfortable position with all that chub - Author said it was one of the best parts of being with Edward, was that he was basically a human pillow - and he shifted a little, clearly thinking about how to answer.

“Kind of, yeah. I was already a writer before, and when he found me, he knew I was kind of a cocky shit. I guess he took advantage of it a bit when he told me he could basically grant me these powers of controlling people and controlling situations, and he says whenever he’s angry that he could have done it with someone else but an Iplier with a writing knack is kind of niche so I think he kind of needs me. Or he’s too lazy to do the mind control thing himself.”

Edward always felt a little strange when Author called it that - mind control. He’d seen the Author in action the few times he’d insisted on taking the younger man into town, and he himself had been under the influence of his writing more than a few times - mostly with permission - and it wasn’t like mind control or even being forced into anything. One could fight the thought, if they really chose to, instead it sort of flooded the brain like an instinct. It’s part of the reason Edward kept coming back. Or at least, he liked to think he would have kept coming back anyway even if Author hadn’t been writing it.

Author said that Dark had popped over once or twice while Edward hadn’t been around, and he hadn’t “started anything”, as Author put it. But even the idea of Dark being around Author made Edwards blood boil, made him so furious he was prone to giving himself headaches.

Fortunately though, it seems the doctors presence in the house kept Dark away. Edward didn’t know why, and Author didn’t really know either, although he felt it must have been something sinister.

The important part was that most of the Authors marks were healed and no new ones had formed. The Authors skin was mostly clear, other than a few scars here and there that the doctor was still treating daily with various ointments. It was a routine, Edward would strip down to his boxers and tell Author to do the same, and they’d sit on the bed as Edward rubbed oils and lotions into the Authors back. They only sat up because if they lay down, no actual progress would be made, simply from getting too worked up.

Afterwards, the Author would lie in Edwards lap as they both write. Edward would fill out paperwork from the day if there was any left over, and the Author would be scribbling away in his notebook.

The Author would comment and compliment of all of Edwards squishy parts, his thicker thighs and stuck out belly, and would make over the top attempts to kiss every bit of Edwards basically hairless body.

For a while, Edward tried to ignore the strange anomaly that was the whole Iplier same face thing. He always found it strange when the Author would say Darks name in full and pronounce it in... that way.

Darkiplier.

Like it was all one word. Unlike the doctors own name, Edward Iplier, it was so distinct. He almost had the mind to ask the Author why he didn’t have an ‘Iplier’ variation is his name, but then, he remembered that all traces of the Authors true name were lost to time and bad handwriting. And at this point, they’d fucked, he’d basically moved in, it was weird to ask “what’s your real name” now.

-

Edward was picking up something to go from Cracker Barrel to take back home to Author when he got a text. At first, he ignored it just to be able to get the food in the car without spilling it everywhere. Once he was settled, he pulled the phone from his pocket and read the message.

‘I have a proposal for you and your boyfriend.’

Okay, that was cryptic and ominous and he absolutely didn’t like it.

He tried to call the Author phone. No answer. God damn it.

Needless to say, the good doctor broke a lot of speeding laws getting out to the cabin, especially once he was out of the city and not going to get fined. Not that he cared about a damn fine in a potentially bad situation like this.

Part of him felt silly with how fast he was driving. He didn’t even know if he was coming home to something dangerous. Maybe it was a prank text. Fuck that, it didn’t matter, and as he pulled up to the cabin, the door was ajar, as it had been months ago. Edwards stomach dropped and he quickly got out of the car, leaving chicken and dumplings sadly abandoned on the passenger seat.

He ran up to the door and didn’t delay with pushing it open this time.

“I can’t help what the reaction is! Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, that’s how it works, my powers are just actions!”

Author was strained, levitating in the air, and he looked like he was bound by rope, except whatever was keeping him tied up was invisible. He already had a black eye. Edward wanted to be sick. Even when Author was technically at a higher altitude, Dark had the most horrible presence, like he could look down on someone from any height.

“Then I need to know the reactions. I think modifications to our deal are in order.”

Edward finally spoke up, although still not entirely sure how to phrase it.

“LET HIM GO.”

Dark turned around rather casually, before flicking his wrist. Author tumbled to the floor, rather awkwardly, almost like a rag doll. There was a crunch and Author yelped. Edward tried to pay it no real mind. The priority was getting Dark out of here so he didn’t do any more harm.

“Ah, Dr Iplier. How kind of you to join us, and so punctual too. Isn’t it a two hour drive? You made it in an hour and fifteen minutes. Speeding is dangerous, Doctor.”

Edward could feel his nails digging into his palms, unsure of the next move. He’d heard things about Dark. Dark had granted Author powers, he’d implied to be able to give the same to Edward, not that he wanted it. But he wasn’t something that Edward understood, and that was the most terrifying part.

“You need to leave.”

“Do I, now? Because in this contract, that is -“

Dark summoned some sort of document that looked only well kept because, well, Dark wasn’t about to lose his copy.

“ - the contract between The Author and myself, I’m allowed to come and go in his abode as I please. And that’s not exclusive to here. Even if he were to move into your abandoned little house, I’d be able to come and go as I please there too as long as The Author calls it home.”

Edward just about ripped the document from Darks hands and read it over. There were some... disturbing stipulations in this contract.

“What the fuck is this? Dark, what are you doing?!”

Dark almost looked smug under that stone-faced expression. He plucked the contract back out of Edwards hands.

“Your little darling has given very little for his powers, all things considered. He got lucky. But now, I need something else. And I’m perfectly aware of how power hungry your precious Author is, even if you’re blissfully unaware...”

At this point, the Author had been able to shakily climb into the bed, just on the corner, holding his sides like he’d been squeezed too hard.

“I don’t want this, Dark. I don’t care about the future. Find someone else.”

At that, Dark turned to the bed, hands behind his back.

“You don’t care about the future? I would have expected that from you six months ago, Author, but not now that you have something to live for, someone to lose...”

The Author gave Dark a burning, scolding look, and his eyes flicked over the doctor with fear for a moment, as if figuring out how this was all going to go down.

“Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”

Dark laughed. He actually laughed. And it was horrible and two-toned and sent the worst chills down Edwards spine.

“Well, if you think that will help your cause! But I have a better idea.”

He turned away from the Author again and stepped closer to Edward, looking down at him.

“I know you’re not particularly well-known for your medical skills, Doctor. Rather average, just getting by, all things considered. But I could change that. You’d have real healing powers, and you’d never have to worry about your little Author getting too badly damaged. I know you worked oh so hard to fix him up from all our little play dates...”

Edwards face was practically red with rage, one might have even seen the smoke coming out of his ears. Just thinking about the way the Author looked at their second encounter, and everything he must have endured before hand, he could feel his heart breaking.

“Doc... don’t. You don’t want to get into this. Please.”

Edward barely heard Authors voice from the bed, still in pain, although what kind of pain, Edward couldn’t tell. He was holding his head again, as if fighting some inner dialogue, and from the right light Edward could have sworn he saw black smoke escaping from Darks hands behind his back, worming bits way into the Authors ears.

As Dark loomed over Edward, watching his reactions to everything with a sickly smirk, the Author seemed to be mumbling something repeatedly, griping his hair, looking like he was about to tear out chunks. It was hard to watch, and even harder to stand when Edward heard what the Author was saying.

“Please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave...”

Edward didn’t know if it was directed at him or Dark. Thinking about the latter made him sick.

Edward tried a slightly more diplomatic response, knowing threats of violence certainly weren’t going to get him anywhere.

“Dark, he doesn’t deserve this. Whatever you need done, you’re powerful enough to do it yourself... he doesn’t need to be tortured like this.”

Dark looked down at him, as he always did.

“It’s an awful lot more fun doing it this way, though.”

Edward didn’t have time to think before he was reeling back and punching Dark in the face. Dark wasn’t really that much taller, and Edwards hit actually landed, but it was more for the sake of him getting it out than it doin anything to Dark.

Darks head turned just slightly, and he paused, letting the silence other than the Authors horrid begging ring in the air, before Dark spat out some sort of black bile. Without a moment to react, he then reached out, grabbing Edward by the wrist and jerking it so violently that it snapped right then and there.

Edward howled out in pain and tried to cradle his wrist, he knew he had some gauzes, some painkillers, but fuck, none of that mattered right now, did it?

Edward stumbled back ever so slightly as the Author cried out too, from the bed.

“FINE, OKAY! Please, I need to know, I just need to know, I don’t want him to go, I just need to know, Dark, I’ll do it, okay? Just - I gotta know!”

The Author was in tears, on his knees, begging at Darks feet. Edward still wasn’t sure what exactly the Author was begging about but his own pain was so blinding that it was hard to think.

“No, Author, don’t do this, you’ve already suffered enough! Don’t give him more reasons to hurt you -“

Edwards pleas were cut off by a blood-curdling scream as the Author held his hands up to his face. Edward couldn’t see past Dark what exactly had been done, but the scream shook Edward to his very core.

“I’m going to kill you for hurting him.”

In Edwards brain it’s as simple as that. He’d figure out a way to tear Dark limb by limb, supernatural being our otherwise. Unfortunately, Edwards brain didn’t totally catch up with Dark summoning the Authors wooden bat before he was bludgeoned across the head with it.


	3. At A Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I set him free, but ironically, freedom comes at a price.”

Edward woke up with one of the worst headaches he’d had in his life. Everything was blurry and a little to the left. But at least he was comfortable. Well, other than the poorly crafted cast on his hand and wrist.

The bed was, oddly enough, fairly nice, if not completely foreign. In fact, the more the doctors vision started to make a bit more sense, he realised he had absolutely no idea where he was. It wasn’t even like a basement, kidnaping situation. He had all of his limbs, he wasn’t chained to a bed. He was wrapped up, warm, in fine linen, in a medium room that looked straight out of a 1930s decor magazine.

Why was he here? Why the hell did his head hurt so bad?

He sat up in bed, a few bones cracking as he moved, and he felt the back of his head, finding a solid egg.

Then he remembered the bat.

And everything came back to him.

He was in classic pajamas, white and blue strips, that he didn’t even own, and he couldn’t care less. It wasn’t the most flattering look but he had to find the Author.

“Author?! Where are you?!”

He was running down different hallways, opening doors that weren’t locked, and some of them seemed to be occupied by other people. 

Eventually, in a stray corridor, there was a sign on a door that caught Edwards attention.

‘Doctors Office’

Well, that was ominous.

He opened the door.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting. It was like a regular GP office, just a bit bigger. Desk in the corner, a bed, various every day necessities for treating patients generally speaking.

There were two men in the room. One was on the bed, seemingly asleep, although Edward couldn’t really tell since his face was obscured by the other figure, taller than Edward, and quite broad shouldered too. More than that, he had pink hair.

He turned around at the sound of the door closing, and began to speak.

“Nothing significant yet, Darky, but - oh!”

Upon noticing that Edward was not the man he thought he’d been talking to, his demeanour changed from chipper to... even more chipper.

“Well hello there, you must be new! My name is Wilford Warfstache, a pleasure to meet you finally.”

He stuck out his hand in greeting and Edward took it, hesitantly, unable to keep up with the firm grip. He was too busy staring at the pink moustache. And the same face.

“I’m... I’m Dr Iplier. I’m looking for my friend, the Author.”

At that, Wilfords smile dropped a little.

“Ah, poor thing. Rather a shame, isn’t it? But I suppose everyone has those moments where you just get a bit too greedy -“

“He wasn’t like that!”

Edward snapped. It seemed to take Wilford a bit by surprise, but before Edward could even ask how or why Wilford knew him, let alone why he was talking about him in the past tense, a chill fell upon the room.

“Darkling!”

Wilford shoved past Edward, and Edward spun around at the same time just to see the source and - there was Dark.

That utter bastard.

“What did you do with him?”

Edwards tone was horrid, and demanding. He shocked himself every time he spoke like that, but when it came to the Author, he needed to know.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for.”

Dark looked just the definition of at ease, so high and mighty, completely untouchable, and Edward would have punched him right there and then if he wasn’t sure he’d just break his wrist again.

Dark moved in closer, and was basically growling at this point.

“You saw it all, Doctor. He begged me. Begged me to save him from the unknown. I set him free, but ironically, freedom comes at a price.”

With that, he gestured towards the bed, behind Edward, that he’d paid so little attention to. Edward turned around and saw the figure.

His hair was greasy and a little more grown out, and there was a blonde stripe that seemed to curl from the root to the tip. It would have been aesthetically pleasing if it weren’t for... the bandages.

Absolutely matted in blood, covering the mans eyes, and for a moment, Edwards memory flashed to one of the last things he saw, the Author covering his eyes, screaming in pain, and it sunk in.

“No... no, no, no, he didn’t ask for this, you bastard!”

A tray nearby the bed caught Edwards eye, and he scooped up a pair of surgical scissors with his still functioning hand before making a move to plunge the scissors into Darks chest.

He was stopped by some invisible force. It looked like black smoke, the same stuff that kept the Author suspended in the air. Wilford, who had stood just to the side and a little bit behind Dark, kept his eyes fixated on Dark with a slightly worried look. Not worried because of Darks safety, more worry of the retaliation.

Wilford had read in a few of the Authors letters how much the doctor meant to him, and losing him to Dark would be the poisoned cherry on top.

The scissors fell to the ground and rather quickly, a hand was wrapped tight around Edwards throat as he was pushed up against the bare wall where one would measure someone’s height.

Edward attempted to breathe, and it was incredibly shallow, but Dark clearly knew what he was doing. Just enough pressure for the threat, not quite enough to kill him.

“Your friend, despite his sleeping state right now, knows exactly what’s happening. And he knows that there is a future, a possibility, in which I kill you right now for your insolence. Now, you have two options. You could go back to your normal life, pronounce your name however you’d like, be average forever, and forget about all of this. Or, you could stay, and treat your patient. Unfortunately, Wilford here is a wartime doctor, so although he may be able to do the same things as you in theory, his methods are... crass. No offence, Wil.”

Dark didn’t break eye contact with Edward as he said that, and Wilford shrugged from behind them both.

“None taken, Darky!”

“You would stay here, and you’d be able to personally guarantee the welfare of your loved one. But you would exclusively stay here, and you’d treat others too. Others like us.”

That last sentence had a strange tinge to it. It was like a cousin of solidarity. But Edward wasn’t about to be fooled by that.

“But... I have a job, and -“

“Arrangements can be made. This will officially be your occupation. The thing about us Ipliers is... we ‘re a little bit off the grid.”

Edward shifted, more than a little uncomfortable. Dark backed off in terms of distance, and Edwards eyes kept darting over to the man he loved, looking so broken. Tears started to well up.

The warnings the Author had given him time and time again, about not getting into this, not getting involved, not playing into Darks hand, was he really going to just... do it? For the sake of protecting him?

“Is there a contract?”

Dark smirked.

“A small one. It says that you can come and go as you please, technically speaking. But that while you’re here, you’re to treat every patient with equal amounts of care and professionalism. And if you leave, any damage to any... persons is your moral burden to bear. And he doesn’t leave with you. Ever.”

Dark summoned the document, an awful lot smaller than the Authors, really. A couple of pages and a dotted line to sign on at the bottom.

And Dark was true to his word. He didn’t really have any control over Edward. No powers, no anything like that, and he’d get the same salary he was getting before. He’d reside here, in this strange house, this very room as his new office, and he should have been thinking about the long term consequences of his life.

But he didn’t care.

Dark reached out his hand, holding something in it.

The Authors pen.

“Here. Whenever you’re ready.”

Edward took the sacred pen into his casted hand and signed, shakily. He felt sick. But he needed to keep his love safe.

Wilford almost immediately groaned, forcing Edward to blink the tears from his eyes.

“Ugh, he’s bleeding again! I swear, bandage changes every half an hour? Even I’m not that high maintenance!”

Dark smirked and the contract disappeared. He turned back around to Wilford.

“It’s not your job anymore, Wil. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

And with that, they were gone, in a puff of pink and black smoke.


	4. Many Futures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Darkiplier no longer needed The Author. So Darkiplier created The Host“

The pen was still in Edwards hand when Dark and Wilford disappeared, and he put it in the front pocket of his pajamas without thinking. He clearly had other things to focus on right now, like the man before him that was a shell of what the Author once was, bleeding from his eyes. The bandages were already soaked before, now there was blood running down the side of the mans face and Edward ran around to get a few basic supplies together, quickly putting together a clotting serum just to slow the blood flow down.

Edwards hands weren’t as stable as they usually were with injections, that much was certain, but he did what he had to do. Once he’d cleaned up a little bit, he decided another change of bandages were in order. At least Wilford hadn’t been keeping them totally dirty all the time. Every half an hour though? Anyone bleeding consistently for half an hour, well, that’s close to a hospitalisation situation.

It became apparent that Edward would be the hospitalisation situation. Dark didn’t seem the type to take anyone to hospital, despite very obvious eye trauma. Speaking of, Edward slowly unwrapped the bandages and luckily, none of the blood had dried so much that it stuck too bad. The bandage finally lifted off, a little sticky, and -

Edward had to stifle a sound. He didn’t quite know what the sound was. Shock, sickness, horror, it could have been anything. There were no eyes to speak of. There were barely sockets, in fact. It was difficult to look at and Edward wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own goddamn eyes. It looked like something from a bad creepy pasta photoshop. Where there should have been eyes, it was just cloudy and hollow and black, those empty spaces going on forever like a void, and then it was almost difficult to not be drawn in.

Edward blinked a few times and got his shaking under control. He picked up a small flashlight from the same tray the scissors had been and he went to do... well, he would have checked the dilation of the patients pupils but that seemed like an attempt would be in vain. He almost had a morbid curiosity, to just see a little bit further in, a little bit closer.

He turned on the small light and shone it in the left black “socket”, and looked closer, closer, until he could almost see - 

The patient moved. His eyebrows furrowed, for a second, his voice, low, cracked and groaned, and suddenly he shot up, cover his eyes like he was in fear. In fear that he’d something he didn’t want to see, or in fear that someone would see him? It was difficult to tell.

Edwards heart broke with the way he was cowering and shivering in the clinical bed, and a few streaks of blood ran down his cheeks as he seemed to comprehend the situation. He was... mumbling, and it was so quiet, Edward could scarcely hear what he was saying. But it reminded him all too much of the rambling of the Author on the bed, and at Darks feet.

“...Author?”

The patient flinched, as if not expecting to hear anything at all, like anything above a whisper would be all too much.

“The Author didn’t want this. The Author did not want the Doctor to get involved. Dr Iplier should leave. He should leave and forget about these events. The doctor should forget about the Author.”

He was still covering his eyes, and though the way he worded things didn’t seem this way, his tone indicated a sort of pleading with Edward.

Edward reached a hand out to place on his knee as gently as possible.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m not leaving you here, I... I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I promised I would and I didn’t. Dark, he - he was...”

Edward stuttered over his words. There were a million reasons why he didn’t stand a chance against Dark but none of them felt good enough as an excuse for not saving his love from this horrible fate.

He wasn’t expecting though, for his love to grasp the hand that had been so gently placed on his knee.

“Darkiplier no longer needed The Author. So Darkiplier created The Host. The Host... understands if Dr Iplier believes The Host is weak. Darkiplier made The Author believe the Doctor might leave, and The Author was so plagued by the thought that he gave in and allowed Darkiplier to... make modifications to their deal. The Author wouldn’t know if the Doctor would leave, but The Host would be able to see possibilities of futures, timelines. The Author did not know this was what Darkiplier would bestow upon him. Darkiplier himself does not know how unpredictable The Hosts powers are. The Host sees many futures where Darkiplier is incredibly upset by his plan failing. Darkiplier will likely make most use of The Hosts painful visions, indicating one definite future shortly before it occurs.”

Even when... The Host wasn’t speaking, he was still speaking under his breath, every move Edward made, The Host somehow knew and he talked about it, like he was narrating everything between them. It was unsettling to say the least.

Edward thought about what to even say. There was so much. Maybe The Host has seen the majority of the futures questions and answered them before Edward even got to ask.

“How many futures do I leave in?”

The Host slowly lowered his hands from his face and the bleeding had mostly stopped, just leaving a few crimson tracks.

“Less now that he is aware of the full situation. But The Host wishes to advise the Doctor that this change will take some time to get used to, in every future. And The Host would especially request that the Doctor not attempt to enact revenge on Darkiplier again.”

Edward almost got defensive, although he tried to keep the snappiness out of his tone.

“Why not?”

“There were many... grim possibilities of that confrontation. The Host would like the Doctor to stay, and he would especially like the Doctor to stay alive.”

Edward didn’t have a retort to that. Instead, he moved his hand up The Hosts arm, gently, before wrapping an arm around his back and giving The Host a soft hug.

“The Doctor doesn’t have to stay. The Host would like him to, but Dr Iplier is not obliged.”

Edward felt his own, regular, salty tears well up and threaten to spill over. There was no hiding it, The Host narrated it then leaned into the hug.

“Of course I’m staying. I need to protect you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the end? Big question mark? I didn’t get as much smut in as I wanted, clearly, and it wasn’t as fluffy in the end, but that’s also raw. I don’t know.
> 
> Point is, HAPPY BIRTHDAY HOSTY

**Author's Note:**

> Have you got an idea or a request for a fic? Come shoot me a message at markipwiwer.tumblr.com!
> 
> If you like what I do, please consider supporting me at www.ko-fi.com/markipwiwer!


End file.
